


Sage advice from dark-haired people

by Endrina



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dogs, Multi, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 22:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7407535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endrina/pseuds/Endrina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony thought it was his dog and it was his multibillon corporation, so if he wanted the two of them to mix then it was no one’s business. Because they were his. He owned all the businesses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sage advice from dark-haired people

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a sequel, rather a side-quel of To know a life unchained . On that story Tony has a conversation with a disguised Loki on how to get your life on track. It is possible Loki gets the impression that Stark didn’t understand his sage advice and stays around to make sure he gets his point. 
> 
> Also, spoilers for Avengers AoU and Civil War.

It was at that uncertain time of the night when it is past late but hasn’t reached early yet, that Tony, half asleep face down in bed and still clutching a wrench, realized that lately he had met a big bunch of dark haired strangers with weird if helpful advice. He should get the new girl, Friday, he had named her, to look on it and see if there was a pattern or something. But he fell asleep and on the morning he only remembered a design idea for a portable ice-cream maker.

Tony got the impression that the universe wanted him to get a dog. But he couldn’t simply buy it (said Brunette lady #3) he had to get a rescue dog (Brunette Lady #4 and Brunette Hipster Man with Beard #3). The problem was that no matter his fortune, no shelter wanted him to have a dog because they just “weren’t sure, Mr. Stark, that you are ready for the compromise and responsibility” and they all thought his life was “too hectic”.

So no dog for Tony. That was nothing new. He had wanted a dog as a child and even extracted a promise from his dad, but next Christmas came and he got the same old books on science for young adults and the generic car toys that he knew his dad’s secretary bought for him.

(At least Jarvis’s wife had good taste choosing novels).

And then Tony found himself in California because the weather agreed with him and lately New York had felt like trespassing. He had been driving down the highway and he had taken some weird turns and ended on some country road. Tony had stopped to look at the landscape… and maybe look at his phone and realize that this road wasn’t on the map. Not StarkMaps and not GoogleMaps and ok, don’t worry Tony, just go back and eventually you will find some paved road to take you home. And this time he would not choose his turns based on whether or not he thought some dark haired figure was standing there beckoning.

That’s when he found the dog. A big Rottweiler chained in front of a shack. There was a water bowl but you didn’t need to be a genius to calculate the chain’s radius and see the dog could barely reach the water. Plus, there was no shadow nearby for the dog. There were _songs_ about the Californian sun, come on, nobody wanted to be under that for a long time.

Tony did not steal the dog.

This was important to clarify. After the police came and shut down the shack and arrested the drug dealers that used it as a laboratory, the dog would have no owner and therefore could not be stolen. Tony had actually taken some photos through the one window and after a brief pang of hurt at the realization that he couldn’t send those to Banner (he had left too, like all of them) he had Friday check and confirm it was material employed in drug elaboration. Although a simple sniff had told him that already.

So Tony, as a good citizen, had to notify the police (anonymously, because he could be humble too). It stood to reason that he should also see about the dog. It was the humane thing to do after you had sent its owners to jail.

So what if he put the dog on his car first and made the call later? If he waited, the dog could get heatstroke or something.

 

…

 

“Tony, why is there a dog dragging a twelve foot chain on the living room?”

“Rhodey! This is Winston. Or Marygold. Not sure about the name yet.”

“Tony”

“Well it was easier to break the chain open from that side. But I am removing it completely, don’t you worry. Here boy!”

 

…

 

Tony thought it was his dog and it was his multibillon corporation, so if he wanted the two of them to mix then it was no one’s business. Because they were his. He owned all the businesses.

Pepper didn’t mind because, as she herself said, she was happy enough to see him come to a board of directors meeting of his own volition for once in his life. On time and sober too, which was a never heard before event.

He wasn’t even making a scene or anything. In fact, they were both on their best behavior. Tony was paying, like, 50% of attention and Winston sat by his side panting, its pink tongue lolling down its mouth between the fangs and drooling like it was his one mission in life.

Of course this kind of meetings were always terribly boring, which is why Tony used to come drunk in the first place. Winston had a similar opinion and at some point between the third and fourth powerpoint he got up and went to the Chief Executive of International Divisions to rest his head on his tight and look at him with pleading eyes.

Tony understood that not every man was comfortable with a Rottweiler resting his snout in the general vicinity of one’s crotch. But in that case you shouldn’t have actual beef jerky on your pocket, honestly Levinson, you are a chief executive carrying gas station snacks with you. You can afford to share.

Winston spent the rest of the meeting quite entertained. Tony said that it hadn’t been as dreadfully boring as he remembered and that he may start showing up to more of them, just to see the faces of consternation.

 

…

 

“Tony, you know, the people at the shelters… they had a point”

“Rhodey, I love you as brother; but if anyone tries to take the dog from me I will destroy a small country. You know I will”.

“At least take a class on dog training”.

“Winston is a perfectly behaved young dog”.

“For you, Tony, for you”.

 

…

 

Pepper started carrying dog treats with her, because Pepper was wonderful and Tony really had to do everything on his hand to keep her in his life on any form she desired.

 

…

 

Unlike what _certain people_ said, Tony could be responsible. So he signed himself in a dog training class AND went there, every Monday and Wednesday 5:30 to 6:30 pm. The instructor was obviously uncomfortable but valiantly worked through it and managed to be competent. The rest were in a mixed state of starstruck, suspicious and afraid of the dog. Tony gave them his usual dose of charm and roguish self-confidence and immediately engaged in conversation the nearest brunette. They, wise dark-haired people, had to stick together.

 

…

 

Stark Industries Human Resources Division added a line to their employment application about candidate’s ability to work with a dog’s head resting on their elbow.

(You could answer “none” and still get hired, but only in divisions outside the States)

 

…

 

Winston had the habit of eating everything and anything within reach. Tony had done his homework, became and expert over a long night on the internet. He knew it was due to stress and probably some trauma while under the hand of the drug dealers. Plus the dog wasn’t fat, precisely, so he had most likely gone a few days at a time without eating. Tony knew people did that to keep dogs on edge when guarding places.

Winston was eating the best dog food money could buy, and there was already a small group of scientist at Stark Industries researching how to develop a better one. Tony didn’t order them to do so. They just thought this was the best opportunity to get the funding and bring the samples home to try them with their own dogs. But still, the dog chewed and ate everything regardless of whether it was traditionally considered edible or not.

Tony was working on teaching him “no” and that certain things were out of limits. He was confident the dog would be able to understand such abstract concepts like property and restricted areas because so far he had managed to teach himself how to open cabinets and drawers. Until then, Tony had to baby proof the house and keep dangerous substances under lock and key.

The house saw a sudden decline on alcohol consumption because it was a sodding nuisance having to climb a stool to get the bottle at the top of the cupboard every time you wanted a drink.

 

…

 

“Tony, whatever possessed you to buy the dog a squeaky chew toy?”

“I don’t know, Rhodey, I don’t know. It had good reviews.”

“It squeaks”

“Believe me, I am aware”

“Tony, you have to get rid of the toy”.

“It’s not like I am not trying. They have 328 pounds of bit pressure, you know”.

 

…

 

The squeaky toy (come on, it was Wolverine shaped. Hilarious!) came to its demise two days later, when Winston shredded it to tiny pieces.

 

…

 

There were things that Winston was incapable of learning. For example, “get down from the couch”. Or, “shaving cream is not food, bring that back”.

There were things that Winston learned by himself without anyone teaching him. For example, the fact that at 10:15 sharp Rhodey had his physical therapy. For some arcane reason the dog had decided its presence was required to supervise, touch a knee lightly with a wet snout and, occasionally, race Rhodey. As well as mock biting his socks. He did that every day. If Rhodey was late, he would scratch at his door.   

When he first saw it, Tony had a scare thinking the arch reactor was malfunctioning and the shrapnel getting to his heart until he remembered he was a real boy now. He still had to sit on the stairs for twenty minutes clutching the scar on his chest and breathing deeply.

He was perfectly composed later. But he wrote an instruction to Friday to see if she could locate a dark haired woman he had met in a bar weeks ago. Tony was pretty certain she had been the first to mention dogs, either her or the emo kid in the morning, and he wanted to thank her profusely. Friday must had been talking to Vison because she was quite snarky and suggested calling Zuckerberg or the NSA. It was lunch time by then, so Tony couldn’t stay to argue and the matter was dropped.

 

…

 

Pepper asked to borrow Winston for her next investors meeting. She also had an interview that day and the front page photo of next month’s _Entrepeneur_ had Pepper barefoot in a D &G suit with Winston at her side. She looked like Thor described that Sif gal and Tony framed the picture.

 

…

 

The dog stank. There was no pretty way to say it. He reeked.

Tony watched a couple of videos on Youtube on how to bath dogs and decided to enlist Vision’s help. It was an enriching experience and Tony learned many things.

  1. Ordinarily, big bathtubs are a wonderful luxury, but when bathing a dog, small and enclosed is the way to go.
  2. Vison was useless and for all his height he could not stop a single dog from running out of the bathroom in a trail of water and foam.
  3. Soap tastes horrible and Tony should see about designing a line of dog soap that tastes better.
  4. If you carry back the dog in your arms, he may put his legs on the door frame and push back and you will exert yourself in the maneuver to pass him through the door.
  5. If you lift your hands for just one second to squirt more shampoo, the dog will jump out of the bathtub.
  6. No, really, he could lift mystical artifacts of power but he could not stop one single wet dog? Vison’s status as superhero was revoked. Revoked!
  7. Rhodey will hurt himself laughing and you won’t even mind that you had to crawl under the couch to drag the dog back, because it is the first time you have heard him laugh since before the fall.



 

…

 

“Tony, you can’t get the dog a gold collar”.

“Well I was thinking red and gold, but it doesn’t really go with his fur”.

 

…

 

The Chief Executive of Communication Technology brought her own dog to the next board meeting. It was one of those water dogs with woolly curly fur and just a few weeks old. The pup was lifted to the table and spent the whole meeting napping next to her Stark-pad.

Pepper gave both dogs a treat. Everybody looked at Levinson, who didn’t bring anything this time and was a selfish prick.

Polls showed that there was an estimable percentage of the public who would be interested in a better tasting dog soap, so long as it was safe for children.

 

…

 

Tony was a bit anxious about Winston’s introduction to the lab. There were loud noises, sparks, and plenty of things that could fall and be eaten. Also, Dummy and Butterfingers.

“Reduce the risk percentage of noxious ingestion” Vision has said, and Tony had detected a certain sass typical of Jarvis on the otherwise neutral tone. _Clean the place_ , is what he meant anyway. Tony made him help because if he was going to use that tone the least he could was gather the abandoned coffee mugs.

Saying that Banner would sorely miss the opportunity to study the protozoa thriving on some of them was completely unnecessary. However, it led to Rhodey, who was sitting behind the glass wall with the dog between his knees, getting the giggles at Vison’s indignant expression when Tony hit him square with half a bagel that then fell into one of said mugs.

He needn’t have worried. Five minutes in and Winston and Dummy had already bonded and were playing tug of war with a computer wire. And, okay, this time everybody laughed.

…

 

Not that Tony ever doubted Hill’s queen bee status in the now defunct SHIELD, but he could see now that she must have been feared and respected in equal measures and couldn’t help but give himself a mental back pat at having snatched her for Stark Industries.

“No” she said, eyes still fixed on her computer screen.

Winston whimpered, his tongue mere inches away from the frankly delicious looking turkey sandwich resting on her table.

Tony thought she must exude some kind of angry pheromones or something, because the dog sat down on the floor and gave up completely on the sandwich.

 

…

 

Katie at the reception desk kept her lunch at Hill’s office now. Because, unlike Hill who was cold and stonehearted, Katie had a soft heart and no willpower whatsoever when confronted with a big pair of brown eyes.

Now they had lunch together everyday, even if Tony wasn’t around with his lunch snatching dog.

 

…

 

Tony bought a Roomba. In fact he bought every kind of Roomba available in the market to dismount in his lab and reverse engineer.

From the pieces, like a flat phoenix pancake, emerged Dryhead.

Dryhead was ceremoniously lowered to the floor to the accompanying cheers of everyone in the house, including Hill. Tony didn’t know why she was there. To be perfectly honest, and he didn’t think he was being over dramatic here, he didn’t feel that comfortable with that woman coming to the house where he slept and kept his underwear. But Pepper liked her, and Tony would endure much to have Pepper in the same room, even if they all feared ( _don’t lie, Rhodes, you were afraid too!_ ) what would happen if Hill saw their kitchen or their bathroom.

Katie from the reception desk was there too. She was currently holding hands with Butterfingers so Tony wasn’t about to question her presence.

There was some whirring. Tony was of the firm opinion that all robots should be able to do some kind of noise and so he always included the option regardless of design necessity.

(Incidentally, the scientific calculator that groaned at solving logarithms had been and instant hit and NASA refused to use any other brand).

Dryhead came alive, rolled around the floor making an eightspattern to calibrate its GPS and, satisfied with its status, located Winston and cleaned the pool of spittle that was already forming under its mouth.

Winston looked startled. He jumped and wagged its tail and sniffed, which was his natural reaction to anything new. Soon after, Dryhead received the dog’s approval.

It was the beginning of a New Age at Tony’s house. An Age known by the recovery of floors and all low surfaces to the Dry Side.

 

…

 

Someone declared that they ought to watch the Star War movies (Machete order) to celebrate. Hill, it was Hill, because all blessings in Tony’s life come from dark-haired people, he saw it know.

They ordered food and sat down to watch and between arranging plates and everybody wanting to have Winston on their lap for a while, by the time they were back in Tattoine to watch tiny Anakin (all surrounded by blondes, no wonder he made such awful decisions later in his life) Tony had Pepper by his side and the firm determination not to move, ever.

 

…

 

Somewhere, in the other side of the world, Steve’s heart froze when he heard the beep. Not from his phone, but The Phone, the one he had given Tony in case of chitauri-level emergency.

It was a text message.

_Look, you may not know this because you don’t have dark hair, but trust me, you need to get your boyfriend a shelter dog._

Below there was a selfie of Stark and a slobbering Rottweiler wearing matching flower crowns.

 

…

 

Stark closed the phone and smiled as Winston licked his ear. Sage advice from dark-haired people. He should see if they had a Facebook group or something. He was ready to join.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback loved and welcome.


End file.
